


Laissez-le tout dans votre esprit (Leave It All In Your Mind)

by holoucene



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Harry, Fluff, French Harry, Harry is a chef aka burger flipper, M/M, Theres a lot of smut starting like halfway through ok, help me I'm terrible at this, side Ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holoucene/pseuds/holoucene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' existence is like a snow globe of sad inconveniences and missed opportunities, always seeming to draw the short end of life's stick. That is, until he wins an online competition for a cruise around the beautiful islands of Fiji and meets the walking poem that is Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> okay hi this is my first fic EVER so bear with me the first few chapters are sorta slow I'm sorry

Louis was very late.

Or like, five minutes late. But with Ms. Robins, there really was no difference. Why did the tardiness of her employees matter so much to her anyways? It was a fucking toy store, for god's sake. It's not like there are any over-eager mums dragging along sleepy, bleary-eyed six year-olds to an overly expensive store chalked-full of loud and messy toys at seven in the morning.

Louis couldn't imagine anyone wanting to come into a toy store for any reason before noon, so why did he have to be here so damn early? He couldn't really complain, though, he got great deals on toys for his younger sisters and the pay was decent, even if it is only a summer job.

Unlocking the back door to the charmingly quaint "Toy Haven", Louis escaped the unusual-for-Doncaster summer heat with a sigh of relief, dropping his bag and shitty old skateboard off in the back room before slinking his way to the front desk to clock in. Hesitant, apologetic smile in place as he rounds the corner and comes face-to-face with the manager. She's dressed in her routine deep blue pantsuit (this women takes her job way too seriously), dark eyes sneering down at Louis as she is probably like 3 feet taller than him.

"You're late"

"By eight minutes! I had to wake up at Six AM on a god damn-"

Louis is lucky she cut him off then with a hissing "Uniform. Work station." As his job would've probably ended up on the line. He needed the money to pay for his flat and next few terms at university as it is, and couldn't afford to have his running mouth ruin yet another money-earning opportunity.

Becky, his most favorite coworker, arrived just as he finished pulling his deep-blue shirt with the Toy's Haven logo sewn onto the breast pocket over his head, "Why doesn't she ever grill you? You're late almost every day!" Louis wines childishly, adjusting his artfully disarrayed hair.

Becky gives him a shrug. Pale, wrinkle-less face pulling into a sly grin "I'm her favorite. She likes to touch my boobs on a Saturday." Which has Louis spluttering out a startled laugh.

"You fucked once and now you've got her wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger?"

She refuses to meet his eyes, opting instead to pull her own shirt off and grabbing for her uniform as well as she mutters "Maybe more than once..."

Louis releases an obnoxiously loud "oh my _god_ " before jabbing Becky in the side with an accusing finger "that's not fair! You get sex _and_ ridiculously preferential treatment at your workplace! This morning my stupid cat took a shit on the counter and i burnt myself making toast! I haven't had sex in months, Rebecca!"

"Stop shouting!" Becky pants, Struggling to tie her thick orange hair up in a bun through her snorting laughter. "Isn't she like, twice your age?!" Louis tries for disapproving, but his lips drag up in a reluctant grin.

The only fun they will probably have for the next six hours is quickly cut short as Ms. Robins enters the back room looking very much like she hasn't had sex in about as long as Louis-despite the information he had just received -thin-lipped scowl in place and hands on hips "what are you two doing? Get your shit together, we're opening in five minutes." Before striding away, jaw set and eyes narrowed.

"Well," he hums pleasantly once his less-than-friendly boss is out of earshot "she must be fun in bed." Receiving a swat to the stomach and a reluctant giggle as they prepare the boxes in need of shelving.

***

It's about three hours later, Louis is fiddling aimlessly with a few of those magnet-thingies that stick together and make weird noises when you throw them in the air and Becky is telling him a story about a boy she had to let down the other day because she remembered she didn't even like boys about the same time she had realized they were on a date. He's about to ask Becky if she thinks Ms. Robins (or "Leslie" as Rebecca had kindly told him is her first name, to which Louis asked if it was awkward shouting that name during sex. (another swat to the stomach)) hired mostly gay people on purpose, or if she just had a weird drawing toward them without noting it, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He fishes it out of his too-tight jeans "unknown" he reads aloud.

Becky scans the screen over his shoulder and seems to recognize the number "that number belongs to a big company, answer it."

Louis wonders absently how working at a dead-silent toy store and studying biology has given his cheery coworker such thorough knowledge on the phone numbers of "big companies". Deciding that's a conversation for later, he swipes his thumb across the screen and accepts the call, pressing the phone to his ear with a marginally interested "Hello?"

"Louis Tomlinson?" A man's voice, sounding official and informative.

"Yes...what have I done?"

A low chuckle "You haven't done anything wrong. Are you ready for the opportunity of a life-time?"

oh. "Uhm. Thank you but, I really probably don't need whatever it is you're selling, so-"

"No, no. Listen, Louis Tomlinson?"

The man sounds rushed, as if a gun is being held to his head and if he doesn't at least get out what it is he's been scripted to say he'll get shot. "Yeah." Louis hums, deciding to at least humor the poor guy, not like he's got anything better to do on a sunny Friday afternoon other than work like the poor slave he is.

"My name is Peter Wells, and I'm pleased to tell you that you've won a fabulous prize."

Louis tries not to scoff "mhmm..."

"Brace yourself now, because you're about to scream for joy"

Louis releases a softly sarcastic laugh "should I hold on to something?" winking at Becky, who's giving him a bemused look from where she's stamping price tags on board-games.

"Louis Tomlinson?"

"Yeah?"

"You've just won a week long, all expenses paid trip on a sailing yacht, amongst the small, intimate, beautiful islands of Fiji."

Louis tries not to let himself get excited. There had to be a catch somewhere, amazing things like this just don't happen to him. They just don't. In fact, not even insignificantly good things happen to him, like toasting bread so that it's just right or arriving just in time to catch the bus, Louis' life was sort of like living in a snow-globe full of missed opportunities and sad inconveniences.

"You and a handful of others will be spending most of your time on a luxurious sailing yacht, complete with a captain, chef, and crew hand, and in return all you need to do is attend a seminar on the joys of resort sailboat ownership-"

"Aha!" Louis crows victoriously, stifling the urge to throw his fist in the air "I knew there was a catch! There's no way you would've just phoned me at random and given me this "amazing opportunity" without making sure I buy a boat or something first!"

"No, Louis Tomlinson, No purchase required." It was really getting creepy how often he addressed him by his first and last time.

"what? but you just said-"

"Yes, you must attend the meeting on boat safety and a presentation on the wonders of owning a yacht, but you are not required to buy anything or spend any money in order to take this holiday"

Louis' thoughts do a little stutter "So like. This is for real? Not. like. a scam, or anything"

Louis can hear Peter Wells grin through the phone "No scam."

"But why me?"

"You filled out the online competition package, correct?"

Louis does vaguely remember. It had been months ago. Early March, his mother had sent the link to the website inside an email ranting about how he needed to get himself together and start seriously planning what he wanted to do with his life, so that he didn't end up the disappointment she already thought he was. That was fun. He had seen the link and almost laughed, but decided to fill out the forms because why the hell not, it wasn't like he would win.


	2. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My french is probably crap so if you have any corrections make sure to tell me so I can fix it !!! thanks :D

Louis slid into a bright green taxi once he'd left the airport in Viti Levu, Fiji. The flight had taken almost a day and a half (first to Australia, then onward to Fiji) and he felt as though he had been vibrating with excitement the entire time. He likes to think he felt a bit sick on the plane simply because of the excitement, and not because the big flying hunk of metal could've crashed at any time, ending his life at the ripe age of 22 and cutting his holiday short.

But it hadn't, and here Louis was, standing on two shaky legs in front of _The Sun Song_ , eyeing the rickety plank leading on board with suspicion.It appears decently secure, chain handholds on either side, plank flat and wide enough if he was careful. He would be very  _very_  careful. With his luck, he'll lose his suitcase before he's even on-board this  _Sun Song_.

The boat looked like one of those straight out of the history books he'd refused to read in high school, grand and beautiful and...sinkable.

He knew from the information Peter had sent him that this sailing yacht had been made in France, was eighty-two feet long, and was a "ketch" whatever that meant. The exterior was made out of welded aluminum alloy, which sounded good and well and extremely water worthy, but it was reassuring to see the safety raft strapped to the side in case of emergency.

Louis didn't really want to think about "emergency" and "sailboat vacation" in the same sentence. Instead, he spun around, suitcase in tow, and took in his surroundings.

The docking area was surrounded by cozy, colorful shops and markets, almost sagging under the warm, soupy breeze. People of all different shapes, sizes and nationalities scuttled about, rambling in all sorts of gorgeous accents, outfits just as colorful as the landscape around them.

Louis turns slowly to contemplate the bridge-like path he's supposed to take to board the boat again, gathering his courage with each intake of exotic air.

"Beautiful day, yeah?"

Louis jumps at the voice behind him, recognizing the accent as one coming from southern Yorkshire and turns his body in a 180, back facing the ocean and holding in a sigh at what he finds.

This man- or, boy really. Is the embodiment of the word "gorgeous" and Louis doesn't know whether to be intimidated or turned on. A little bit of both, probably. His body is all sharp edges, lean and tan skinned. Hair a raven black and eyes the warmest, sweetest shade of caramel.

Louis is sadly reminded of the fact that he hasn't had any luck in months as he stares open-mouthed at this creature that seems to secrete sex from his pours, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together and glorious jaw tightening as he gives Louis a confused look.

"Y'alright?" Unfairly-Beautiful-Man says in a thick Bradford accent and Louis is extremely angry then because how do beautiful people like this even exist in the UK and why hasn't he met this one yet?

Realizing he is quickly losing his window to confirm that he does in fact have a brain, Louis adjusts himself and gives Smolder-Brows his brightest grin "Yeah man, lovely day. Nice to hear a familiar accent 'round here."

At that, Mysterious-Man gives Louis a smile that is oddly cute for such an intimidating beauty as he is "Doncaster lad, are we?"

"Correct you are! Bradford?"

"Yeah, Zayn Malik. You boarding?" He gestures to _The Sun Song_ , arm littered in tattoos.

"Louis Tomlinson." Louis chimes, most charming grin in place. "And..yeah. eventually. 'M a bit afraid of heights. Falling to my death doesn't appeal to me, strangely."

Zayn chuckles "Yeah mate, know the feeling. Fucking terrified of water" As if the prove his point, Zayn gives the vast, bright blue water a distrusting scowl.

Louis tries not to laugh, instead aiming for sympathetically confused as he says slowly "This is a cruise. We'll be spending a week in a boat above miles of deep, menacing salt water"

Zayn hums, pulling out a cigarette from the pocket of his black jeans and sticking it in his mouth "yeah, but it was free." And Louis can't argue with that logic.

Louis is about to point out that Zayn isn't really dressed accordingly for a week in the sun, in dark jeans and a band shirt, when the other lad is distracted by a head of blonde hair and pale arms waving exaggeratedly down at him. "Friend of yours?"

"Oh, yeah. 'S Niall. Good bloke. I better go meet him up there, wish me luck. See you soon?"

Louis takes a second to process all of what Zayn had just said, and when he's finally got his wits about him, the man is making his way down the plank, suitcase handle gripped tightly in his fist.

Well.

Louis watches him go, and despite being terrified of the ocean, Zayn makes it safely across, unlit cigarette still dangling between his lips. Louis decides that if gorgeous leather-jacket guy (or "Zayn") can make it across without falling to his imminent end, Louis can at least take it in baby steps.

***

He's about half-way across, going at the pace of a geriatric snail, trying very hard not to look down-

" _Excusez-moi_ ," A man says from behind him, crowding up close and trying to get around Louis before he turns into a decaying old man, probably.

Louis refuses to look, in case his eyes stray to the looming and horrible water way, way below. His gaze never leaving his goal, the boat. The boat is safe.

"If I could please just get around you-"

"Yes." Louis hums to the thick french accent " I know. Just a minute. I really don't feel like going for a bit of a swim just now, though. So."

The voice gave a breathy sounding snort, "And I really am not in the mood to drop all these ingredients for your dinner into the ocean and lose my job."

Louis sighed and attempted to make room for this french man, turning his face toward the voice, about to make some snarky comment that he knows is his specialty when his brain seems only able to produce a distracted little huff at what his eyes find.

Louis searches desperately to find words to describe this boy, but all he seems to produce is blowjob lips, green green eyes, stupid bandanna(?), curls.

"Uhm" He murmurs dumbly, fiddling with the handle of his suitcase. Louis has never been one for jittery habits like fiddling with his hair and picking his nails, but there's a first for everything.

Curly-haired boy seems just as distracted, sunlight dancing across tan skin that is only earned by hours of sun and bringing pretty pretty shadows dipping into delicate collarbones and Louis is writing sonnets in his head about how _pretty_ everything about this boy is just as a baggy of what he assumes is paprika goes tipping out of the box in angel-face's arms and plummets to the depths below. "Oops."

But he's grinning a blindingly bright smile, soft lips stretching and _dimples_.

"Do you... want some help?" And really, Louis shouldn't have even offered. His hands are occupied completely with clinging to his belongings and the handrail for dear life.

"Oh" The boy huffs, and his very french accent makes the word sound more articulately placed than it is "No. _merci_ , though. Uh. Are you alright? You look a little- sick"

"Oui" Louis says lamely, hoping he doesn't offend this obviously french boy "I'm fine. Just a bit- afraid of heights."

"Oh, well. I will send Niall to help you with your things and make sure you don't...trip?"

"Great. Thank you." Louis moves completely out of his way as he assumes blowjob-lips had been waiting for and sucks in a breath when their arms brush together and goosebumps litter his flesh.

It's as Louis' watching him almost-jog away that he spots the ship tattoo that is almost an exact replica of the _Sun Song,_ black ink twining intricately on deliciously muscled bicep. He wonders if every single person on this cruise is going to be violently beautiful.

***

About two minutes after Pretty Eyes had left, another boy appeared at the end of the plank "What're you doin'?" irish accent drawling. He wore a billowy white shirt and loose navy pants rolled up at the calves, skin blindingly pale.

Louis had not moved a single foot since The French One had left, trapped completely in place at the thought of the plank snapping underneath him. Which, okay- He realizes is kind of ridiculously stupid. But when Louis is scared he has a tendency to either run away very fast for the size of his legs are freeze in place. Seems like today he chose the ladder.

"Oh, you know... enjoying the breeze." He responds finally, gaze flicking to the water below.

"Well, you look right terrified. Harry sent me to help you across." And Louis didn't know anyone could look quite so happy while persuading someone who could potentially throw up on them to cross a bridge onto a sailing yacht.

"So, Harry's the French One?" Louis inquires innocently once he's safely on board.

"Yeah, hey. There he is now!" His grin dazzlingly bright as he waves to two men as they approach, one of them is Curly or "Harry" wearing almost the same getup as Niall, other than the fact that his navy pants are much tighter and Louis might be salivating, the other has silvery, wavy hair and a square-like face, gorgeous all the same.

"I'm Denny Mcdonald,the captain" The older man says, shaking Louis' hand, and once he realizes who Louis' eyes are following, he adds "and this is Harry Styles, our burger flipper."

"Chef" Harry corrects mildly, now wearing an adorable frilly apron over his tight clothes, soft looking hair pulled up behind that same bandanna.

"Louis Tomlinson" Louis returns "I'm not a captain or a chef." Earning a grin from Denny and Harry, and a full on guffaw from Niall.

"oh, right. This here's Niall, as you may already know. He's our crew hand." Denny says politely, grey eyes shining good-naturedly.

Louis looks to Niall, he's attractive in his own sense of the word, hair a fantastically dyed combination of brown and blonde, eyes the bluest he's ever seen. Though Niall's skin is pale, he appears completely at home with life on the ocean, and has a charmingly open persona.

Louis gives them all a bright grin before Denny turns to leave with a jolly-sounding "Enjoy" and Harry following reluctantly after him.

Niall proceeds to give Louis a tour of the ship from bow to stern. He is in awe. The interior, polished teak and accented with bright, welcoming colors and fresh flowers and gorgeous prints, is surprisingly spacious and luxurious.

A frisson of excitement courses through him, he's really here, really on board this stunning and graceful love-boat themed adventure about to ride off into the even more breathtaking sunset. Something about the thought of it made Louis dizzy, he'd never gotten an opportunity this amazing.

Niall leads him through the halls, talking animatedly about the _Sun Song_ and all the adventures he'd experienced while being a member of the crew and Louis is intrigued, so interested in finding out what life is like for those who have decided to take it by the horns and do as they please.

"Anyways," Niall finishes "if you're not a captain, and you're not a chef, what do you do?"

Louis pursed his lips, nothing interesting. That's what he does. He wastes his youth away."I'm studying business at UNI"

He could feel Niall wince without even looking at him "That's... rough. Heavy stuff?"

"You don't know the half of it" They enter a large galley stuffed to the gills with all kinds of mouthwatering food, piled high on trays "Oh my god" Louis nearly moans "Harry did all this?"

"I did, yes. For the meet and greet in an hour" Louis' head swivels around to place the french lilt to the pretty face, hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Wow. it looks amazing" Louis purrs, and he hopes Harry understands that he's not talking about the food at all.

Harry gives him a dimpled smile, clearly very proud of himself "Thanks" and Louis notes that he'll have to be more obvious with his advances. This boy might not even be into dudes, but judging by the pink frilly apron, Louis very much doubts that he's straight.

The adjoining salon is more gleaming teak and holds a bar, a gorgeous dining booth, an entertainment center, and a spiral staircase leading up to a lookout deck above. Everything drips elegance and sophistication, and for the next week, Louis gets to belong to this world.

"This place is so lovely" He sighs to no one in particular.

"It is." Harry agrees with a soft kind of smile, and when Louis meets his eyes it's almost as if his lungs are full of spring.

"Right" Niall says suddenly, voice too loud and breaking Louis from his very first romantic moment on the love-boat cruise. He'll remember to get him back later, though, because he's walking ahead, rattling out details about where Louis will be bunking and Louis is jogging to catch up,ratty old vans slapping against hardwood floor and every step he takes away from Harry feeling a little more painful than the last.

 

***

 

Below decks, his state room is as glorious as the rest of the ship, done in beautiful wood and brightly colored accents, clearly made for comfort and privacy. Niall leaves him with a complimentary bottle of champagne, and he toasts himself. "To finally getting a chance to escape the same shitty old town, at least for a little while." He says to his reflection in the mirror over his dresser. "To pretty boys with french accents."


End file.
